


Tasteless.

by memefucker69



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-19
Updated: 2014-08-22
Packaged: 2018-02-13 18:57:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,066
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2161500
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/memefucker69/pseuds/memefucker69
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kyungsoo is always used to cooking for his best friend, Jongin, ever since they were young. However, when he accidentally pours way too much salt into a dish and plays it off as a prank, Jongin compliments his cooking normally as always. Becoming suspicious of his friend, Kyungsoo does this over and over again, trying to get a reaction out of him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> crossposted on aff here: http://www.asianfanfics.com/story/view/803435/tasteless-fluff-romance-exo-kaisoo-suchen
> 
> written for tumblr user rosedave/wuyifanisalwayshere :>

The first time Kyungsoo met Jongin was by chance. It was a swirl of mutual happiness, white-washed walls and floors, and the icky smell of bleach and anesthetics.

Kyungsoo held his mother’s hand, rubbing his eyes and swallowing back a whine about the stiff smell to air. They had to get up early to visit a cousin in the hospital who Kyungsoo had never even met before, but he had heard that his cousin had broken his foot and his mom said they put it in a bright blue cast and said it looked cool, so he was a little interested. He still didn’t like the hospital, though. It smelled weird, there were a lot of beeping sounds, and the flooring squeaked with every step of his light-up sneakers.

Needless to say, he completely brightened up when he saw the electric blue wrapping around his cousin’s foot. His mother yanked his hand back when he tried to touch it, his head just barely above the hospital bed, and Kyungsoo glowered for a good few minutes, climbing up and sitting in a chair while his aunt and mother chatted with his cousin.

He was ecstatic once more when his cousin (whose name was Minseok apparently), handed him a permanent marker and let him doodle on the cast. Kyungsoo ended up drawing some black blob, which he pointed at and called a cat. Minseok laughed at that. His mother came up and even helped him write his name there, her larger hand guiding his gently and writing the characters into the cast. Kyungsoo thought it looked weird.

After wandering around for a couple minutes in the hospital room and not finding anything to do, the toddler pouted and yanked on the hem of his mother’s coat. “Mama, can we go now?”

“A couple more minutes, Kyungsoo,” she answered, going back to her conversation with his aunt. However, a “couple more” minutes later, she was still chatting and ignoring Kyungsoo’s pleas to leave. Frowning, the young boy wandered over to the door, his head set on going home by himself. It couldn’t be too hard? He’d never driven the car before, but everyone else could, so it shouldn’t be hard for him to do either.

Kyungsoo slipped through the door, wandering out into the hallway that was relatively empty, except for the occasional nurse or visitor. It was scary to walk alone without his mom, but he walked on anyways, ignoring the looks from worried nurses. Eventually he ran into a dead end and placed a finger on his lip, wondering if he went the wrong way. His lip quivered as he thought of the fact that he was maybe lost, but Kyungsoo quickly toughened up and turned around, heading back the way he came. He wasn’t a crybaby.

A noise from a door to his right had the young Kyungsoo pausing and turning to see an open door. It sounded like some kind of music he heard when his mom took him to the Nutcracker play last Christmas. His childish curiosity arose to the surface and the toddler walked over, entering the doorway without a second thought. The room looked just like Minseok’s, only it was pretty much empty of people, with the exception being another boy his age lying in the bed, wearing a hospital gown,  with some kind of weird tubing attached to his nose as his eyes focused on the television in the corner of the room. It was playing a ballet play of sorts, with classical music filling the room.

Cocking his head to the side, Kyungsoo spoke. “Are you an alien?”

The boy jumped a bit at the sudden voice, eyes meeting Kyungsoo’s in surprise. “No,” he replied, face confused.

“Oh,” Kyungsoo blinked, pointing to the other boy’s face. “Then why do you have that thing in your nose?”

“The doctor said it helps me breathe,” he answered.

“How?”

“I dunno,” the other boy shrugged. “What’s your name?” he asked, looking at Kyungsoo curiously.

“Kyungsoo,” he replied, officially inviting himself in and sitting in the chair beside his bed, scrunching his face when it squeaked. “What’s yours?”

“Jongin,” he gave a shy smile, “I’m five years-old.”

“Me too!” Kyungsoo exclaimed, lips forming a grin at the fact that they had something in common. By this point, he had completely forgotten his task of going home, and the fact that he was lost and left his mom without permission.

“Really? You’re pretty tiny for one,” Jongin snickered, causing Kyungsoo’s face to go red.

“Am not!” he pouted, puffing out his cheeks and crossing his arms.

“Are too!”

“Am not!”

“Are too!”

“Am. Not!”

“Are. Too!”

Kyungsoo gave in with an irritated look, turning his head from Jongin’s giggling form. However, his stubbornness soon gave way when Jongin started coughing like he couldn’t catch his breath. With worrisome eyes, the smaller boy reached over to run his hand up and down Jongin’s naked back soothingly, like his mom did for him when he was sick.  _That’s right. A hospital was for sick people, so Jongin must be sick._

When Jongin had finally calmed down, wiping the tears from his eyes and drinking some water, Kyungsoo asked in a very serious and sad tone, “are you gonna die?”

Instead of frowning or crying, Jongin grinned and shook his head. “The doctor says it’ll get better when I get older. My dad says I can start dancing ballet then.”

“Dancing ballet?” Kyungsoo furrowed his brows. “Isn’t that for girls?”

“No!” Jongin defended. He heard this all the time. His two dads were always supportive of his dream, but everyone else criticized him behind his back. It was enough that they pitied the poor boy just because he was sickly. “It’s for boys too!”

“Oh,” Kyungsoo give a little thought before shrugging, “okay. If that’s what you wanna do when you grow up.”

“What about you? What do you wanna do when you become a grown-up?”

“I wanna become a chef! Mom says I can own my own restaurant someday.” The giddy toddler replied with a large grin. “Mama doesn’t really think so, but I’m gonna prove her wrong!”

“You have two mommies?” Jongin blinked, Kyungsoo’s words confusing him.

“Yeah,” Kyungsoo nodded. Usually people gave him weird looks when he told them that. He wasn’t sure why.

“I have two daddies!” A happy smile spread onto Jongin’s lips. “We’re the same!”

“Let’s be friends, Jongin,” Kyungsoo offered in an excited tone, his eyes squinting and his lips forming a tiny heart. He had never met another boy his age who was so similar, but so different. When Jongin nodded his head eagerly in response, Kyungsoo couldn’t resist the urge to hug him, gently and careful of the tubes and wires connected to Jongin’s body.

A thought crossed his mind and the young boy pulled away, his face scrunched. “I won’t get sick too, will I?”

“I don’t think so,” Jongin furrowed his brows in thought. What was that fancy word doctors used? “I don’t think I’m conspicuous.”  _Contagious_  was the word he was looking for.

“They were out of fruit, Jongin, so I got you some strawberry yogurt. I hope that’s…” A man with tousled blond hair stopped in the doorway at the sight of a young boy he’d never seen before sitting with his son. Blinking, he went over to the two. “Um, Jongin, who is this?”

“Kyungsoo,” Jongin looked up and answered with a smile. “He’s my new friend.”

“Oh,” his father processed that. Jongin was usually shy when it came to making friends or talking to other boys his age, so it surprised him to know that he had suddenly made a new friend, in the hospital of all places. Nevertheless, he smiled at the information and crouched down to Kyungsoo’s eye level. “Hello, Kyungsoo, it’s nice to meet you. I’m Jongin’s dad. You can call me Junmyeon.”

Kyungsoo shyly averted his eyes, nodding, “ni-nice to meet you.”

Junmyeon smiled and ruffled the boy’s hair. It was hard to admit, but Kyungsoo rivaled the cuteness of his own son, with big doe-eyes and chubby cheeks. “Where are your parents, Kyungsoo?” he asked worriedly, knowing the boy certainly couldn’t have come on his own.

Kyungsoo’s eyes went wide like he had suddenly remembered something. “Ah, I have to get back to Mama…”

“Excuse me, have you seen my son—Kyungsoo!” A feminine voice cried, heels clacking against the flooring as his mother entered the room, scooping up her son from the chair he was sitting in and hugging him tightly. “Why did you leave by yourself?! You had Mama worried sick!” she scolded harshly, but kissed her son’s forehead nonetheless.

“I’m sorry, Mama,” he mumbled into the fabric of her dress.

The woman gave an apologetic smile to Junmyeon and Jongin. “I’m so sorry about him. He usually doesn’t just run off like that. I hope he didn’t cause too much trouble for your son.”

“Oh, no, no, it wasn’t like that at all,” Junmyeon grinned, waving his hands in dismissal, “Jongin, my son, and Kyungsoo seem to be friends now. Ah, I’m Kim Junmyeon, by the way. Nice to meet you, miss….?” He gave a polite bow. Jongin did the same in the form of a nod of his head.

“Jung Soojung,” Kyungsoo’s mother greeted with a smile, “nice to meet you too.” She then took her son’s hand in her own. “Come on, Kyungsoo, Mommy’s waiting at home.”

Kyungsoo, however, was not having it. He stomped his feet and yanked his hand away, hell bent on throwing a fit. He just met Jongin! He didn’t want to leave his new friend! “I don’t wanna leave Jongin!”

Soojung sighed. “Kyungsoo, sweetie…”

“You can come back and visit him?” Junmyeon offered. “He’ll also be discharged in a week or so. I’ll give your mother my cell phone number, and you can come over and play with Jongin at our house.”

The boy grinned in excitement and looked up to his mother with begging eyes, knowing it was an expression she couldn’t resist. Soojung held her breath for a moment before giving into her son’s pleading look. Reaching into her purse, she pulled out her planner and a pen. “What’s your number, Mr. Junmyeon?”

Jongin and Kyungsoo both burst into happy smiles and ecstatic squeals.

 

* * *

 

Kyungsoo, now a teenager, remembered the memory fondly as he was surrounded with screaming, giddy people. He paid them no heed; his eyes were solely focused on one of the players in the soccer match. Even from the fifth row of the bleachers, Kyungsoo could see that his black jersey, reading “88” in big white letters on his back, was soaked with sweat. Back in elementary school, he’d worry if he was overworking himself, but Kyungsoo knew that his friend was a lot healthier now than when they had first met.

Things suddenly got heated as their school’s team got control of the ball, the soccer prodigy, Luhan, dribbling the ball expertly between his feet. The crowd cheered, everyone including Kyungsoo standing to their feet and yelling “go, go”, the cheerleaders on the field waving their pompoms enthusiastically. It seemed to be straight win if Luhan got this goal, the clock winding down quickly.

However, the blond stumbled in his footwork, allowing the opposing team to steal. Kyungsoo’s face twisted into a sneer and the bleachers filled with mutual aggravation. Just as he was about to sit back down and twiddle his thumbs at the impending doom of defeat, Kyungsoo caught sight of player 88 catching up to the one with the ball. Eyes wide as he made an intricate move of his foot and managed to steal the ball back, Kyungsoo shot right back up to his feet and screamed at the top of his lungs as his friend neared the opponents’ net.

“GO, KIM JONGIN, GO!”

Not but a mere second later did Jongin’s foot shoot forward and kick the soccer ball, bypassing the goalie swiftly and hitting the back of the net by a slim miracle. Just as the buzzer rang through the field, signifying the end of the match, the bleachers were filled with screaming students, families, and friends. Kyungsoo cheered with all his might, fists in the air.

Once the game was officially over, people leaving the stands and the players shaking hands, Kyungsoo headed down himself, gleefully hurrying down the staircase. Jongin caught sight of him just as he reached the bottom and the two met at the rusty fence that separated the field from the bleachers, the same happy grins plastered on their faces.

“Jongin, that was amazing!” Kyungsoo exclaimed, his fingers threaded through the holes in the fence, the metal clinking from his excitement.

Jongin nodded, still trying to catch his breath, but smiled nonetheless. “I know…! I think Luhan’s angry that I stole his spotlight, but now Coach has to let me play more!”

“Not only that, but you practically saved the team from losing!”

“I did, didn’t I?” Jongin bragged, panting as he placed his hands on his hips.

Kyungsoo reached over (standing on his tippy toes) and hit Jongin on the shoulder playfully. “I should stop boosting your ego.”

His friend rolled his eyes, opening his mouth to retort only for his name to be called by the coach. Jongin turned around and waved, signaling he’d be over in a jiffy. Smiling back at Kyungsoo, he reached out to ruffle his hair with a sweaty hand. “I’ll go talk to Coach and change out. I’ll meet you at the front of the school so we can go to my house.”

“Ah, alright,” Kyungsoo replied, pulling out his cell phone, “I’ll call your dad—“

“Oh, god, please no,” Jongin groaned, slapping his forehead at the thought, “I don’t even care which one you were referring to, they’re equally embarrassing.” His mind flashed back to the time his dad drove him to school in the BMW convertible, singing loudly to some Girls’ Generation song, or the time his other dad rushed into the principal’s office, demanding why Jongin’s grade average was 99.9 percent instead of a perfect 100. “They’re both on a date anyways,” he shrugged, “it’s why they couldn’t come.”

Kyungsoo snorted, but obliged. He loved Jongin’s parents, but they could be a handful. While Junmyeon was usually rather refined and polite, Jongdae was…well he was the complete opposite most times and tended to influence his husband. It was a wonder to him how they ended up together. “My mom gets off of work from the radio station soon, so I can ask her to drop us off on the way home.”

“That works,” Jongin gave a relieved smile before backing up, throwing a wave at Kyungsoo before jogging over to his coach. Kyungsoo waved back until Jongin’s retreating form disappeared from sight. He turned away, dialing his mother’s number as he made his way around to the front gate of the high school.

Ever since the day they met by chance at the hospital, Kyungsoo and Jongin had been basically inseparable as friends. Kyungsoo had ended up visiting his new friend at the hospital a few more times before he was released, in which they played at either Kyungsoo’s or Jongin’s house. Jongin couldn’t play the energetic games that normal kids played and wasn’t allowed to go outside often, but Kyungsoo didn’t mind. They passed time by watching performances and plays that Jongin liked, or cooking with Kyungsoo’s mothers. Jongin always, always expressed his love for whatever Kyungsoo cooked and said he’d definitely reach his dream and own a restaurant.

Of course, he had always wondered about what was wrong with Jongin and why he was sick. After witnessing Jongin having a terrible asthma attack at recess in second grade, he’d been afraid to ask. Kyungsoo instead asked his mother, Soojung, and she answered with a soft smile and “you have to ask him yourself someday”. In the end, he didn’t ask—Jongin told.

The year just before they entered junior high, Jongin explained that he’d been born very prematurely causing several health problems, especially with his lungs, with breathing. Kyungsoo took that to heart, surprised that Jongin had told him randomly, but thankful nonetheless. He ended up worrying about Jongin more because of it, though that was proved pointless as Jongin’s health improved as the years went by. When they entered high school, Jongin’s physician and Junmyeon gave him the ok to take dance classes, which was later followed by Jongin wanting to play soccer as well. They were all worried that he would overdo it, but he proved himself able to know his limits.

Jongin was there for Kyungsoo when he found out he was adopted. He’d always known, somewhere in his mind, that he was, but hearing the words from his mothers’ mouths put a number on him. He couldn’t remember a time when they  _weren’t_ there.

In turn, Kyungsoo was there for Jongin when he discovered why his mother was never in the picture, and why on February 23rd his father looked somber and disappeared for a fraction of the day. It was a harsh truth. Junmyeon had confessed that Jongin’s mother, Sooyoung, had been suffering from diagnosed depression since she was a teenager, but usually took pills and saw a psychiatrist often. But when Jongin was born prematurely, seeing her terribly small and thin baby hooked up to multiple machines and monitors with tubes and wires everywhere, seemed to be too much for Sooyoung. She blamed and blamed herself, though it was anything but her fault, and she took her own life.

Jongin didn’t speak for days after he heard the truth, ignoring anyone’s attempt to comfort him. Yet, all it took was for Kyungsoo to cook his favorite meal, and Jongin spilled tears and feelings that night.

It was the little things that brought them together, and the bigger things that _stuck_  them together.

“Kyungsoo!” a voice called, causing Kyungsoo to look up from the colorful game he was playing on his phone. He spotted Jongin waving at him, just a few meters away, down the sidewalk. Kyungsoo stood from his seat on the ground and grinned as Jongin hurried over.

“What did the coach want you for?” he asked once Jongin was in reasonable hearing distance.

“He congratulated me for making a goal,” the athletic boy shrugged, “I’m kind of worried though. Luhan…he’s not too happy.” Jongin pressed his lips together in worry, thumbs curling into the pockets of his sweats. It wasn’t as if he  _wanted_  to steal the other boy’s spotlight; he just saw his chance to save the game and took it. “He has a lot of pride, and I didn’t mean to take it from him. Sehun practically clung to him afterwards, looking like he was about to cry that his hyung made a mistake on the field.”

“He’s probably not angry at you,” Kyungsoo reassured. “He did make a mistake, so he might be angry with himself more than anything.”

“I guess,” Jongin frowned.

Kyungsoo rolled his eyes and smacked the back of his best friend’s head. “You made a goal, Jongin! You should be happy! Don’t worry too much about it. Just think about what your dad is gonna do when he hears this.”

“Oh god,” Jongin ran a hand through his bleached blond hair as he groaned in horror, “he’ll probably cry again and take me out to some fancy restaurant and make me wear a suit.” Kyungsoo chuckled at the thought because it was completely true. No matter how big or small the accomplishment, Junmyeon made sure it got celebrated. Jongin gaped at his friend’s joking aura and shook Kyungsoo’s shoulders desperately. “You don’t understand, Kyungsoo, he’s so ugly when he cries! Remember when we graduated primary school? He was crying more than the moms around him!”

“But fancy restaurants are really good! Any five-star joint is better than what I cook. You love eating; you should be excited that your dad takes you out to places like that willy-nilly.” He replied, shaking off Jongin’s hold on his shoulders to check his phone and text his mom to ask her when she was coming.

As the smaller boy focused on his fingers on the touchscreen, he missed Jongin’s mumble of “it all tastes the same to me, Kyungsoo.”

The two boys jolted at the sound of a car horn just beside them, looking over to see Kyungsoo’s mother raising a brow at them from the inside of the shiny, brand new car she had purchased a little over a week ago.

Kyungsoo gave an apologetic smile and stepped up to the curb, opening the backseat door and climbing in, Jongin following, placing his duffel bag between them. Once their seats were buckled, the woman began to drive off.

“Thanks for driving us, Mrs. Amber,” Jongin said, knowing his dad would probably have a heart attack if he didn’t use his manners.

She simply smiled in reply. “No problem, Jonginnie.” He resisted the urge to bite at that nickname. Amber hadn’t stopped calling him that since she first met him. “How was the soccer match? I wanted to go with Kyungsoo, but alas,” she threw her hands up momentarily as they reached a stoplight, “duty calls.” Kyungsoo’s mother was the head radio host at one of the biggest radio shows in all of South Korea and had been the rapper in a popular girl group back in the 80’s.

“We won!” Jongin exclaimed, hugging the back of the empty passenger seat in front of him eagerly. “Not only that, but I scored a goal at the end.”

“Whoa, congrats, kid!” Amber joyfully replied, keeping her eye on the road as she reached a hand out to pinch the blonde’s cheek. “I bet Kyungsoo cheered loudly for you.”

Jongin turned to the other boy and flashed a grin. “He did.”

 

* * *

 

“You’re spending the night, right?” His mother poked her head out the window.

Kyungsoo turned as he exited the car and nodded, approaching the window. He usually spent the night at Jongin’s house on Fridays. There wasn’t really a reason for it; it was just a routine.  “What time do you want me home?”

“Whenever,” she shrugged, adjusting her green-rimmed sunglasses, “your mother and I don’t really have any plans, so we’ll probably be home all day. Just come home whenever Junmyeon decides to kick you out,” she laughed.

Her son rolled his eyes at the last few words. “Okay, okay, Mom.”

Amber pouted. “Why don’t you ever call me ‘Mommy’ anymore?” The woman huffed, leaning up and supporting herself on the steering wheel to plant a kiss on Kyungsoo’s cheek, the latter quickly grimaced at the embarrassing action and wiped his face with his hand. “I love you. Have fun, stay safe, the usual.”

The teenager stepped away and waved. “Bye, Mommy,” he said awkwardly, cheeks red as his mother grinned widely and cooed before she drove around the circular driveway and left.

“ _’Bye, Mommy’_ ,” Jongin mocked from behind him with a humored sneer and a poor impression of Kyungsoo’s soft voice. The shorter boy punched him in the shoulder as a warning and a way to tell him to shut up, turning around and walking up the multiple steps of Jongin’s house.

Though Kyungsoo’s home was pretty impressive too (rich kids’ advantage), Jongin’s was beyond compare. It had three stories and endless rooms, a backyard twice the size of the house along with a large pool, not to mention the garage which held six expensive cars. His house looked like something out of a TV show. Honestly, why did they need that space for a successful CEO, his husband, and his child? Junmyeon certainly was not one for simplicity. Jongin had apparently lived there since he was born, so he couldn’t see why it was such a surprise when he brought their friends over, with their gaping mouths and grabby hands.

So it was Kyungsoo’s job to get rid of the friends who were just after Jongin’s lavish lifestyle.

If there was one thing that Jongin’s house had that Kyungsoo’s didn’t, it was the large kitchen with anything you could imagine. Ever since Kyungsoo had told his friend of his dream when they first met, Jongin asked to test out his cooking skills.

The first time he had cooked for the blond was quite hilarious. Kyungsoo had taken his time to prepare the one thing he was good at, even tasting it before he gave it to Jongin to try. However, he was baffled when Jongin replied simply and childishly with “this sucks”. Though his pride was hurt, it sparked something in Kyungsoo, and the boy became determined to cook something Jongin would love. His hard worked paid off and, over time, Jongin’s unsatisfied expressions became hums and pleas for more.

Jongin disappeared to dump his sweaty uniform in the washing machine and take a shower, leaving Kyungsoo alone to make his way to the kitchen of his dreams. Pushing open the door, he sighed at the familiarity of the room, dragging his fingers along the perfectly clean and sparkling granite countertops as he settled in place behind the island. A smile spread on his features, lips spreading and forming that heart-shaped grin of his.

His socks slid on the pristine bamboo wood flooring, opening the fancy chrome refrigerator, and peering inside. He frowned, checking all the shelves and corners, deducing that there was no chicken, so he couldn’t make any of Jongin’s main favorites (the guy loved poultry like crazy). Kyungsoo shrugged and began pulling out the ingredients and utensils for a different dish that Jongin had a few times and expressed his like for.

The cooking went perfectly, especially without the distraction of Jongin, whining about this or that or insisting to put crazy things into whatever Kyungsoo was making. He began to stir together all the final pieces into the soup, setting the temperature to low and picking up a dish of salt, pinching it with his fingers and sprinkling it in. But the sound of his best friend entering the kitchen had Kyungsoo jumping in surprise, his hand holding the dish of salt faltering…and dumping the entire contents into the small pot of soup.

With wide and owl-like eyes, the brunet hunched his shoulders, glancing over to Jongin, who was too busy fiddling with his phone as he sat at the island patiently; he deduced that the other boy hadn’t noticed his mistake. Kyungsoo bit his lips, mind searching for an alternative and some way to fix the damage that had been done. He could try and add sugar to balance the flavor, but he didn’t want to alter the recipe even more.

Maybe it wasn’t that bad? Kyungsoo spooned some out, bringing it to his lips and nearly gagging at the salt that invaded his taste buds. It was  _cringe-worthy_. There was no way anyone could eat that without getting sick or needing water after every spoonful. He couldn’t serve it to Jongin.

Well, he could, actually.

A smirk dyed out the petrified look on his face, making the small boy look sinister. Wiping the look off immediately, Kyungsoo cleared his throat and took a bowl from the cupboard, beginning to ladle some of the deadly soup into it. “Dinner’s done.”

Jongin’s features lit up and he scooted up to the island bar in his stool like an excited child. Kyungsoo resisted the urge to cackle evilly as he placed the bowl in front of his friend, accompanied with a spoon. The taller boy raised an eyebrow as Kyungsoo simply stood in front of him on the other side of the island, instead of getting his own share and eating it alongside of Jongin like he usually did. “You’re not going to eat?”

“I’m gonna make something different for me.”  _Hurry up and eat the damn soup._  “I’m not really in the mood for this.”

“More for me then,” Jongin smiled cheerfully, picking up his spoon. Kyungsoo watched with eager eyes, feeling like the witch from the Snow White fairytale watching the princess bite into the poison apple, fingers digging into the stone of the countertops as his friend dipped the utensil into the salty concoction before blowing on it and bringing it to his lips. Kyungsoo bit back a grin, anticipating the choking or burst of outrage.

But there was nothing. Jongin swallowed it before beginning to eat the soup wholeheartedly, not saying a word to the silently expectant Kyungsoo. The latter blinked. He must be really good at acting or Kyungsoo’s taste buds were whacked up. That soup was definitely overbearingly salty though. Hesitantly, the chef spoke up. “Um, h-how’s it taste?”

The blond smiled genuinely, humming in delight as he finished his last spoonful. “Just as good as always,” he complimented, getting up from his chair. Kyungsoo jumped at the thought that he was escaping to get water, only to falter as Jongin approached the pot, about to ladle more soup into the bowl.

Actually fearing for his friend’s health, he grabbed the empty bowl from Jongin’s hands roughly, meeting his surprised eyes. Quickly thinking of an excuse, Kyungsoo tossed the dirtied bowl into the sink. “Save room for dessert.”

If Jongin showed no signs of giving into his “prank”, then Kyungsoo would be sure to tug some out of him.

 

* * *

 

The following morning, Kyungsoo got up early, tiptoeing past the slumbering Jongin and making his way to the kitchen. As expected, Jongin’s dads were sitting at the dining table, Junmyeon sipping his coffee, glasses perched on his nose as he read some romance novel (as usual), and Jongdae lounging on the table top, obviously dragged out from bed half-awake.

He greeted them both a good morning and shuffled to the refrigerator. Jongdae immediately brightened up, knowing Kyungsoo was about to cook them breakfast as he always did when he stayed over. It wasn’t only Jongin who enjoyed his cooking. With his plan from last night embedded in his mind, Kyungsoo pulled out the pancake mix from the cupboard, along with milk and eggs from the fridge. Instead of mixing it into one bowl, he pulled out two, a small one and a large one. He mixed the batter normally into both, but smirked as he took out a bottle of vinegar and dumped it into the smaller bowl.

“Um, Kyungsoo, are you sleepwalking?” Jongdae asked, raising a brow as Kyungsoo placed the vinegar back into its designated spot in the cabinet.

“No,” the younger male blinked, “why, Mr. Jongdae?”

“You put vinegar into the pancake mix,” he pointed out, finger jabbing in the direction of the bowl.

Kyungsoo froze in place. He’d forgotten that Jongin’s parents were in the room. His plan was over if he was found out, and there was no way in hell he was admitting that he fell for Jongin’s amazing acting over the salty soup from last night. Well, there was the chance that Jongin’s parents would join in with his pranking, right? “You see, uh, last night I accidentally put too much salt into Jongin’s soup and just passed it off as a prank. But when he ate it, he acted like everything was normal, and I almost believed him. I tasted that soup though, and it was  _really_ salty, overbearingly so. But he ate it! And even went back for seconds! It’s weird, so I’m gonna try again and get him to confess…and maybe get him to audition for a play.”

It was silent between the three men. Junmyeon and Jongdae exchanged knowing, worried glances, unsure of what to say. Removing his glasses and running a hand through his blond hair, salt and pepper roots showing, Junmyeon looked awfully serious. “Kyungsoo, we should—“

“—totally help you with this,” Jongdae cut in, throwing an arm around his husband’s shoulder. He flashed a grin. “We won’t tell him. It’s nice to see the kid squeal and pout every once in a while.”

The dark-haired teen smiled back, not having caught on to anything, and continued with his cooking, missing the warning look Jongdae gave Junmyeon. It wasn’t long before Jongin stumbled into the kitchen, hair messy and clothes crooked and wrinkled. His face was terribly swollen as always. As he took a seat at the table, between his shorter fathers, Junmyeon planted a kiss on his forehead, knowing his son was vulnerable to his love for once.

Kyungsoo flipped the last pancake onto fourth plate, being sure to differentiate the plate with the vinegar pancake from the rest. Jongin helped distribute forks and get out glasses of milk and a bottle of syrup as his friend placed the plates on the table, packed high with hotcakes.

They took their seats at the table, Kyungsoo’s gaze shooting to Jongin’s plate immediately. He had placed the vinegar pancake on top, just so that Jongin’s reaction would be the first thing he saw. He sat on the edge of his seat as Jongin cut a piece off of the seemingly normal flapjack, not bothering to flavor it with syrup, and placed it in his mouth.

Of course, he chewed it without a problem, giving Kyungsoo a thumbs-up and smile as he swallowed.

Kyungsoo resisted the urge to flip the table over.

 

* * *

 

The following school week, Kyungsoo did his best to alter some part of Jongin’s food throughout his meals. He mixed hot sauce into Jongin’s ketchup, he cleaned the lettuce with vinegar instead of water, and he made Jongin a roast beef sandwich instead of using ham. Nothing worked. Even as he made a few things obvious, Jongin would get halfway through his meal before he pointed out how strange the food looked, but never comment on the taste.

It was driving Kyungsoo  _insane_. Why wouldn’t Jongin just give up the act already? There was only so much terrible food a person could handle. Did he like Kyungsoo making his food gross?

At this point, it was a routine.  It was the following Friday, a week since he poured the salt into that soup by accident, and no reaction from Jongin was even hinted at. Kyungsoo stared at the bubbling stew angrily. “What should I mess you up with today?” he grumbled sarcastically, stomping over to the cabinet and grabbing the red pepper flakes.

Jongin sat down at the bar as usual, just as Kyungsoo was finished with his latest prank concoction. Could he even call this a prank anymore? He practically slammed the bowl of stew onto the countertop, the broth sloshing onto the rim. “Enjoy,” he growled through gritted teeth.

The blond did no such thing, frowning and looking up to Kyungsoo with confused eyes. “What’s up with you?”

“You know exactly what’s up with me,” Kyungsoo glared, eyes menacing and accusing as he scooped out some stew into his own bowl, gripping the large spoon tightly in his fist.

“No, I don’t,” Jongin retorted, his eyes wide and innocent, a little worried as to what Kyungsoo meant. “You’ve been acting like this all week. Did I do something?”

“Did you do something?” Kyungsoo mocked, laughing dryly and propping himself onto the counter as he smiled bitterly. “Is it funny to you, to watch me get all flustered and confused?”

“What are you talking about?” Jongin furrowed his brows. “Kyungsoo, you’re acting strange.”

“ _Me_? I’m acting strange?” Kyungsoo’s eyebrows flew up to his hairline, doe-eyes wide, “says the guy who’s been eating messed-up  _shit_ for the past week and hasn’t said a single word! I’ve fed you countless meals with flavors that no human being should be able to stomach the taste of! But you sit here and mock me, like everything is normal! Give up the act already! I know it tastes horrible! You can tell me, Jongin!” He panted as he finished his shouting, eyebrows pressed together tensely. Kyungsoo hadn’t meant to go on a tangent, but he had reached the last straw of Jongin’s acting.

Jongin was quiet for a moment, eyes having fallen to his steaming stew. He bit his lip, guilt tearing through his stomach as he spoke up. “I didn’t know, Kyungsoo,” he confessed.

“You didn’t know? Jongin, I swear—“

“Kyungsoo, listen—“

“No,  _you_  listen—“

“Kyungsoo, I can’t taste anything!” Jongin shouted, standing up from his stool, knocking it to the kitchen floor. His chocolate hues were filled with endless guilt, and he hung his head, unable to look Kyungsoo in the eye. This wasn’t how he wanted his best friend to know.

“You…what?” Kyungsoo breathed, try to take in what Jongin had said.

“I…It’s a side-effect of my meds,” the taller boy confessed. “It’s called ageusia. I can’t taste anything; my taste buds are messed up. I mean, I can taste some things because I can still smell and stuff, and can feel the texture, but most of the time everything just…doesn’t taste like anything.” Jongin sighed. “I’m sorry, Kyungsoo. I wanted to tell you, but you looked so happy when I told you everything you made tasted good, and I liked watching you cook. I didn’t want to hurt your feelings.”

“…How long?” asked Kyungsoo in a monotone voice.

Jongin drew in a sharp breath. “I-I was put on the meds just after I met you.”

Kyungsoo didn’t say anything for a while, and Jongin stared into the mix of silvers and blacks in the granite countertop with a heavy heart. He heard a sniffle and a shaky breath and looked up to see tears pouring steadily from his friend’s eyes, dripping down his cheeks and falling to the floor. Kyungsoo’s lips quivered before he began sobbing, hand reaching up to wipe messily at his eyes.

Jongin’s hands balled into fists. He felt like shit. He knew he shouldn’t have lied to Kyungsoo in the first place. What kind of friend does that? He gave Kyungsoo false hope, something the other boy hated. As he got older, and Kyungsoo became more serious about his dream, Jongin knew he had to tell him the truth, but he just couldn’t find the will to, knowing he would break that heart-shaped smile in two. And he was right.

Walking around the island, Jongin didn’t think twice before gathering his friend into an embrace. Kyungsoo gave little resistance before relaxing into Jongin’s hold, burying his tear-soaked face into the blond boy’s t-shirt. “I ha-hate y-you…” he sobbed and choked, but hugged his friend nonetheless.

“I know,” Jongin murmured, rubbing Kyungsoo’s back soothingly, “I’m a dick.”

It was a while before the smaller boy finally calmed down, the stew cold by now, and pulled away, Jongin’s hands immediately darting to wipe the remaining tears from Kyungsoo’s cheeks. “Listen, Kyungsoo, my opinion doesn’t even matter. You know that your cooking is amazing; everyone who tastes it compliments you right away. Don’t doubt yourself for one second because of this.”

Kyungsoo gave a small, sad smile. “I know. I’m…I’m actually glad you lied to me.”

“What? Why?”

“You don’t know how much it means to me when you encourage me and cheer me on when it comes to my dream. It feels like…like how you feel when the audience claps for you at your dance recitals or how the screams of people at your soccer games sound. It makes me want to work harder and become better. Just knowing that you had kind intentions is good enough for me,” he said, wrapping his arms around Jongin’s middle and tugging him close. “I’m still angry at you though. Don’t think you’re getting away with this.”

A grin spread onto the taller teen’s face, only Kyungsoo would see the silver lining in Jongin’s actions, only Kyungsoo would forgive him for something so terrible. His hands slid to loop around Kyungsoo’s hips as a very passionate and strange thought plagued his mind. “Kyungsoo,” he said, waiting for those cute and large eyes to meet his own.

Jongin barely allowed his friend to let out a “what” before he craned his neck down to capture those plush, parted lips with his own. Kyungsoo’s eyes went impossibly wide with shock, while Jongin could only relish in the feeling of doing something he had only dreamed of. It was sudden, shy, and strange, all packed into a simple press of the lips, and Kyungsoo couldn’t help but fall into the spell of his once best friend. His eyes fluttered closed just before Jongin pulled away from the innocent kiss.

“This is weird,” Jongin murmured, resting his forehead again Kyungsoo’s, his cheeks painted a light pink. His thumbs nervously rubbed circles into Kyungsoo’s jacket, eyes darting to look at their feet.

“Really weird,” Kyungsoo agreed, “th-that was my first kiss.”

“Mine too.”

“I…didn’t hate it though,” he mumbled shyly, nibbling on his lower lip.

Jongin’s heart felt like it was about to burst in his chest, a million emotions flooding through his veins and sending his mind into a haywire state. He let out an excited breath before kissing Kyungsoo on the lips once more. So many things were happening tonight, so many truths spilled, but he couldn’t find himself to hate any of it.

Kyungsoo’s fingers fumbled on Jongin’s back, nervously twisting and clinging to Jongin’s shirt as a warm feeling pooled in his stomach and his face burned. He was kissing his best friend, and he didn’t hate it. It was an awkward, inexperienced, second kiss, especially when Jongin pinned him against the edge of the countertop, the thick stone digging into his skin, and his tongue slid against Kyungsoo’s lips messily. The shorter boy shivered, goose bumps decorating his arms despite the heat in his body, as Jongin’s tongue delved into his mouth and touched his own. He let out a weird squeak at the strange feeling, eyes clenched shut.

And then the kitchen door opened.

“Jongin, Baekhyun’s on the phone— _oh my god_.” Jongdae’s voice startled the two of them. Jongin pulling away from Kyungsoo quickly, even though his father had already seen everything. Kyungsoo felt like dying and hid his face from view, trying to catch his breath as Jongin searched for a way to explain the situation.

“Junmyeon, you owe me twenty thousand won!” Jongdae cheered, disappearing out the door once more, a muffled groan coming from the living room. Kyungsoo couldn’t help but smile, looking up at Jongin who looked embarrassed.

 

* * *

 

That night—Kyungsoo was spending the night as usual—Jongin opted to sleep in his bed together, instead of one on the floor and one on the bed. Their legs tangled together shyly, cheeks warm and hands intertwined in the dark. Things were the same, yet totally different.

“My lips are gonna be all swollen in the morning if you keep kissing me like that,” Kyungsoo complained, pushing Jongin’s face away with a hand blindly in the dark. His flushed red and wiped at his lips. They felt numb from the multitude of kisses placed on them since they decided to get some sleep.

“I can’t help it,” Jongin mumbled into his hand, licking Kyungsoo’s palm and causing the other boy to grimace and yank his hand away, “you taste sweet.”

Kyungsoo rolled his eyes. “You fucking dork.”

“When you curse, it means you adore me,” the blond grinned, burying his face in the crook of Kyungsoo’s neck as he settled on top of him, careful not to crush him with his weight. “You’re alright with things being like this, right?”

“Are you talking about the fact that you can’t taste anything or that we’re…dating now?” Kyungsoo questioned, hand coming up to pat Jongin’s head. It was strange to say the word “dating”. They’d never been anything more or less than “friends”.

“Both, I guess.”

The boy beneath him shrugged. “I’ll still cook for you. I just won’t listen to your opinion too much. As for this,” Kyungsoo pulled Jongin’s head back to place a smooch on his lips, “I’m fine with it.”

Jongin smiled. “I’ll stop taking the meds one of these days. I want to know what your food tastes like.”

“Dream on,” Kyungsoo sighed, “by the time that happens, I’ll probably have a restaurant of my own.”

“When I make my debut as a dancer, I’ll be the face of your restaurant.”

“I don’t want your gross face advertising my delicious food.”

“You won’t be saying that in a few months.”


	2. Found.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jongdae was different, but a good kind of different, a different he needed. Junmyeon always was one to lead, but he liked it when Jongdae held his hand and lead for once.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is a suchen spin-off ( ´ ▽ ` )ﾉ it's not much but pls enjoy.

“You need to get laid or go on a date or _something_.”

The young, twenty-eight year old brunet sighed, sprawling out along the expanse of the bar, nearly knocking over his half-empty drink. “For the last time, Yifan, I don’t want to. I can’t. I have Jongin to take care of.”

“Junmyeon, you and I both know that taking care of Jongin alone, while trying to run your business, is wearing you out,” the bartender pointed out, raising a thick brow. “There are tons of lovely women here tonight,” Yifan gestured out to the space of the room, tables filled with groups of chattering people or a few lonesome.  Junmyeon frowned, peeking behind him, but finding nothing of interest.

No one would ever be as divine as Sooyoung had been.

He knocked his head back against the wood of the bar, squinting his eyes shut and burying his face in his arms. “I can’t, Yifan. I…I _can’t_ go through that again. I don’t want to put Jongin through it either. It’s already enough that he’s catching on. We had to go to a new doctor last week, and she asked me about his mother when Jongin in the room. Now he keeps saying ‘Mama, Mama’. At first I just thought he was saying it for no reason, but last night when I was tucking him into his bed he said ‘where Mama?’”

The blond man frowned at his friend worriedly, patting and rubbing his shoulder sympathetically. “Just try, Junmyeon. You don’t know—it might be good for you. You’ve gotten over your broken heart, for the most part, on your own and that’s great. But it’s time for someone else to help you.” Yifan smiled when Junmyeon looked up, head tilting up, for once. “Dye your hair again, direct your smile to someone else other than your son, and let’s set up a date for you. I think I know someone who’d be perfect.”

Junmyeon seemed to debate internally for a moment, eyebrows furrowing and a frown staining his lips. Was it the right thing to do? His mind thought back to his late wife, his eyes staring down at the gold ring that still adorned his left ring finger. “But Sooyoung…” he mumbled.

“I’d known her as long as you had, so I know she’d want you to be happy and to move on,” Yifan added, and that seemed to be all Junmyeon needed to hear. Honestly, he was sick and tired of faking smiles and trying to put pep in his step that wasn’t there. Sitting up fully, he downed the rest of his drink, determination set in his dark eyes.

“Who is she?” he questioned.

“It’s a guy, actually. You’re bi, right?” Junmyeon nodded. He hadn’t dated another man since high school, but he was glad that it was a guy, he supposed. He’d be less reminded of Sooyoung that way.

“Great,” Yifan pulled out his phone from his pocket, ignoring his job (the guy a few seats down with an empty drink was _fuming_ ). “His name is Jongdae. We went to junior high together, and he was my roommate in college.” He typed on his cell for a moment before looking back to Junmyeon. “When are you free?”

 

* * *

 

 

“Remember to give him his meds at seven and don’t leave him in the bath alone. Also, he can’t sleep without his teddy bear, and he’s allergic to carrots, so don’t feed him those and—“

“I got it, I got it, Junmyeon!” Yifan snapped, pushing his friend out of the doorway. “If you keep telling me these things, you’re gonna be late.”

The other man frowned, running a hand through his freshly bleached and styled hair, puffing out a worried breath. “I knew I should’ve called Jinri to babysit…” He’d never left Jongin alone with anyone but his mother and his sister. But both of them were busy, so he had to put his faith in Yifan and his boyfriend, Tao.

“Go, go, Jongin already knows me, so there’s nothing to worry about,” Yifan reassured, looking down to the small two year-old who was clinging to his leg and glancing apprehensively at Tao. “If anything happens—and nothing will—I’ll call you, okay? So don’t worry anymore and just go have fun at your date.”

Junmyeon sighed, but did as the taller male said, bending down to hug his beloved son goodbye, pressing a loving kiss to his head for good measure. Jongin was everything to him, and he was all he had, all he had left of Sooyoung. When he was feeling down or wanting to give up, he would remember Jongin. He had to try for him, for his son.

He arrived at the chosen restaurant just five minutes before the time they’d chosen. Adjusting his tie and combing his fingers through his slicked back hair for good measure, Junmyeon smiled at himself in the mirror before exiting his car, letting the valet worker take it. Of course, being a well-off gentleman, he picked nothing but one of the highest and most famed restaurants in the city. It was the first date after all, first impressions were everything.

He didn’t know much about Jongdae, other than he was a year younger than Junmyeon and composed music for a living. Junmyeon also had zero clues as to what Jongdae looked like. But Yifan promised him that he wasn’t bad to look at.

Junmyeon headed inside, a waitress quickly guiding him to his reserved table. He ignored how her eyes lingered on him as he sat down. She placed the menus down, smiled and left, thankfully having said nothing out of the ordinary. Swallowing thickly, the blond pulled back the sleeve of his suit jacket, glancing at his watch and realizing that his date would be here any minute.

 

* * *

 

 

If there was one thing Junmyeon hated, it was tardiness.

And, of course, he found himself sitting there _alone_ for thirty minutes past their designated time, a frown etched deeply into his features and hand clenched around a glass of red wine. He had texted Yifan in alarm that his date would never come, and Yifan had replied and said that Jongdae had said he was leaving an hour ago.

He glared into the pristine white tablecloth, strong enough to burn through it. First impressions were everything, and so far, Jongdae’s was terrible. Being late to a date just showed that you didn’t care. Heaving a sigh, Junmyeon pushed away from the table, prepared to get up, a warm hand pressed him down and back into his seat by the shoulder, startling him. He looked up see another man, panting for breath, suit and hair disheveled with sweat dripping down his temple.

“Are…Are you Junmyeon?” the stranger asked, gasping for breath as he braced his hands on his knees. Giving him a strange look, Junmyeon nodded hesitantly and the other man seemed to nearly collapse with relief. It was when the guy moved to take the seat across from him that Junmyeon realized it was his date, Jongdae.

He opened his mouth to speak, but was quickly shushed by a finger pressing against his lips. Jongdae flashed an apologetic look. “I’m really, really super-duper sorry about being late. My car broke down a couple blocks down so…so I ran all the way here.”

Junmyeon’s eyes bulged out of their sockets, swatting away Jongdae’s finger. Well, it was no wonder Jongdae was nearly dripping in sweat and gulping down his complementary water. “You _ran_ here?”

“If I had walked, you would’ve been gone by then,” Jongdae replied simply, fixing his bowtie and buttoning his suit back up to look more presentable, fixing his hair with his hands. Yifan had been right. Jongdae was one of a kind when it came to looks. His hair was the color of sweet caramel and styled up, and his face looked like a carved masterpiece, with a strong jawline and prominent cheekbones. His eyes were somewhat round and his thin lips were curved cutely at the corners. Jongdae caught his admiring stare and grinned. “Like what you see?”

Junmyeon blushed to his toes, clearing his throat and looking away, unsure of how he was supposed to reply to that. Honestly, he hadn’t flirted with anyone in two years, and anytime he tried it with Sooyoung, she had laughed at him.

Jongdae’s grin widened, a hand reaching across to ghost over Junmyeon’s that lied on the table. “That’s alright. I like what I see too.”

 

* * *

 

 

In a matter of one night, Jongdae managed to rip down and crumble every single one of Junmyeon’s barriers. He learned that Jongdae was the exact opposite of himself: direct and forward, honest in every sense of the word.  He was a guy that loved to laugh and loved to have fun. He was a man who was able to have Junmyeon twisted around his finger after one dinner together.

After eating, Jongdae had insisted that they stroll around for a while, not ready to go home. They browed different shops and places, Jongdae dragging him every which way, and Junmyeon found himself not minding it at all. Jongdae was different, but a good kind of different, a different he needed. Junmyeon always was one to lead, but he liked it when Jongdae held his hand and lead for once.

Thunder boomed and lightning cracked in the sky and, with no warning, the rain began pouring hard, soaking them both to the bone. Junmyeon worried for a moment, but then Jongdae flashed a grin that was as bright as the lightning that had flashed above them, and Junmyeon grinned back. Soon, wet hands grabbed the back of his neck and pulled him close, soaked lips meeting his own.

The next thing he knew, his wet clothes were dropped onto a dry carpet and his back met the silk sheets of an expensive hotel bed. Junmyeon could think of nothing except the feeling of the other man’s smooth skin against his own, his hands gentle against the fair skin of his thighs, and the way his kisses burned adoringly. He fell asleep with Jongdae’s arms around him, and awakened with lips pressing against every inch of his body.

It had taken him three months, two days, forty-seven minutes, and twenty-one seconds to fall in love with Choi Sooyoung, but only five minutes for him to come to adore Kim Jongdae.

 

* * *

 

 

“What if he doesn’t like me?” Jongdae questioned for the sixteenth time that evening, glancing worriedly over at Junmyeon from the passenger seat. The blond contained a chuckle, receiving a pout and a slap to the arm. “I’m serious, Junmyeon! I don’t want your son to hate me.”

“He won’t hate you,” Junmyeon rolled his eyes, pulling into his sister’s driveway with a turn of the wheel. “Jongin’s shy, but if could come to like Tao, he’ll like you.” They both unbuckled their seatbelts, the younger man hesitantly exiting the car as Junmyeon made sure the car seat was in the back.

It had been a month since they’d been dating, enough time for Junmyeon to warm to the idea that this was a relationship that was stable, so he suggested that Jongdae tag along on his way to pick up Jongin from Jinri’s house after their date.

As he stepped up to the door, ringing the bell, Junmyeon glanced at his boyfriend, who was obviously nervous, shifting his weight from foot to foot, hands buried in his pocket as he looked away. There was a cry of “Appa!” and the doorknob clicked back and forth (the toddler struggling to open it himself) before there were the sounds of Jinri’s scolds and the door was wrenched open. Jongin immediately leapt through the gap in the door, jumping into his father’s awaiting arms.

Jongdae watched, seeing a different side of his boyfriend, as Junmyeon smiled happily, hugging his son tightly in his arms and listening to him babble nonsense and giggle. The brunet smiled at the scene, finding it adorable and wonderful how much Junmyeon truly loved his only son.

It wasn’t until they reached the car that Jongin seemed to notice the stranger that was following him and his dad. The toddler said nothing, staring at Jongdae, expression curious and shy. He clung to Junmyeon’s jacket as he was buckled into his car seat, grabbing his attention, before pointing to Jongdae. “Appa, who?”

“That’s Jongdae,” his father answered with a smile, “he’s Appa and Jongin’s friend.”

Jongin furrowed his tiny brows. “Me?”

“Yes, he’s your friend. Be nice to Jongdae.” Junmyeon patted his head before ducking out of the car.

Jongdae stepped forward, offering a smile to Junmyeon’s son. “It’s nice to meet you, Jongin. I’m Jongdae—oh, what’s this?” His eyes went wide as though startled, and reached a hand out towards the young boy, who leaned back in his car seat shyly. Jongdae reached behind Jongin’s ear before swiftly producing a coin. “Whoa, Jongin, how’d that get there?”

The toddler’s eyes went wide before he smiled timidly, “again.” Jongdae grinned back, doing the magic trick over and over until Jongin was stifling small giggles and Junmyeon ordered him to sit down so they could leave, a smile on his face as well.

 

* * *

 

 

It was their 41st date, a year and a half later that Junmyeon found himself getting down on one knee, in the middle of the restaurant where they had met, and presenting a black velvet box with a woven silver ring sitting inside. Jongdae had said yes, and Junmyeon had cried in an ugly manner that had him embarrassed.

The wedding was just four months later, extravagant and as expensive as ever, with Jongin as the ring bearer and Tao and Yifan’s daughter, Victoria, as the flower girl. Yifan was, of course, Junmyeon’s best man and couldn’t thank his friend enough for the happiness that was filling his chest and sprouting tears to his eyes as he kissed his new husband after slipping the ring onto his finger.

It was from then on that Jongin began calling Jongdae “Appa”.

 

* * *

 

 

“Jongdae, I don’t understand! Jongin won’t even look at me lately,” Junmyeon cried, burying his face in Jongdae’s chest and cuddling his husband underneath the blankets. The brunet rolled his eyes, rubbing calming strokes up and down Junmyeon’s naked back.

“Well, you did kind of embarrass him when you started sobbing at his graduation last week,” Jongdae admitted, remembering how the boy, who was now eleven, practically groaned as Junmyeon hugged him tightly, fat tears rolling down his cheeks. Junmyeon was never a pretty crier, never.

“He’s growing up too fast! I miss the cute Jonginnie that asked his dad for a kiss every night,” Junmyeon replied, a bit embarrassed about admitting the truth.

“Oh man, if you’re thinking that now just wait until he graduates high school—“

“I don’t want to talk about that, Jongdae,” the blond man groaned, burying his face into the crook of his lover’s neck. Jongdae chuckled, but pressed a kiss to his husband’s forehead, stroking his cheek affectionately.

“Just think, when he finally moves out and marries Kyungsoo, we’ll get to have all the sex we want,” Jongdae shrugged causing Junmyeon to gasp and pull away with a flabbergasted look.

“Who said he’s marrying Kyungsoo? They’re just friends.”

“Oh, please, I can see it now. We’re going to come home one day, and they’ll be making out.”

“Please don’t put an image like that in my head, Kim Jongdae.”

“Let’s make a bet then,” Jongdae smirked, bumping their foreheads together, “winner gets twenty thousand won.”

Junmyeon narrowed his eyes and gritted his teeth. “Fine.”

It was exactly seven years, six months, three weeks, one day, sixteen minutes, and fifty-seven seconds later that Jongdae walked in on that exact scene and Junmyeon paid up.

**Author's Note:**

> that was probably not what you were expecting, huh? thE SUMMARY WAS SO MISLEADING. i'm not a doctor nor a chef so if i made any mistakes, i apologize. aND YOU DONT KNOW HOW mUCH I WANT TO MAKE A SPIN-OFF WITH EMBARRASSING SUCHEN DADS. anywho, i'm hope this satisfies you, ellie uvu/


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